


Where would you like to go today?

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, One Shot, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 14:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13273617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Theon and Sansa share a secret spot in the woods that they travel to when the strain of life at Winterfell is oppressive. They're both free to be different people outside the castle walls. On this trip, Theon brings a bottle of wine, and after partaking, Sansa opens up about her doubts surrounding Joffrey Baratheon and her engagement. Sansa asks Theon to kiss her, roughly, but Theon has other ideas about how he wants Sansa to remember this day.





	Where would you like to go today?

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of fluff for for theons!

Sansa had saddled up her horse and was waiting for Theon in the courtyard. He put lecherous thoughts out of his head (most lecherous thoughts, there was no way to keep them completely at bay with a girl as beautiful as Sansa) and readied his own horse.

They traveled together rarely, only after Sansa was sick to death of Septa Mordane's lectures and Theon had suffered too much of Robb's "I'm Lord of Winterfell so you have to do what I say” strutting and preening. Normally, Sansa wouldn't acknowledge Theon as she went about the castle. That stung - he'd had dreams, once, of Ned Stark offering him Sansa's hand in marriage. Of sweeping a kraken's cloak around her shoulders. But that dream guttered out upon Joffrey’s arrival last week.  

When Sansa was seated on her roan mare and Theon on his piebald gelding, Theon gave Sansa an exaggerated bow. "So, m'lady. Where would you like to go today?"

Sansa smiled. "To the clearing.” Theon nodded, and they trotted their horses out of Winterfell's courtyard. They were careful, but one of these days they'd be seen, and Theon didn't like to dwell on the pounding he'd get from Robb. That was the price he paid as a hostage.  Sansa would escape unharmed of course, or maybe with a scolding.

It was worth it, though, when they arrived at their hideout. Sansa spread out her grey gown and shared the bread and jam she’d packed. They’d tied the horses in the corner of the clearing and from this vantage point, the castle was invisible. Their haven was ringed with pine trees, and soft needles cushioned the ground. After they'd polished off the loaf of bread, they laid back and look up at the sky as the sunlight filtered through the branches.

Sometimes Theon told her stories of krakens and seafaring and dangerous men. Sansa asked after those stories again and again, for all she wouldn’t meet his eyes in Winterfell’s corridors. Other times they shared a companionable silence that only manifested outside the Winterfell’s walls.

Today, however, Theon had brought a treat of his own – mulberry wine he’d bought in Wintertown. He and Sansa passed the bottle back and forth, until Sansa’s tongue loosened. She surprised Theon by speaking of Joffrey, and how his sneer had dimmed his golden aura.

“I know I’m to wed him, no matter how he looks down on me. I'll do my duty. But I hate that he’ll be the first man who kisses me.”

Theon’s stomach clenched.

Sansa sighed. “I overheard father and King Robert. Joffrey’s marrying me for the North, and I was stupid to think otherwise. He looks at me and sees a plain Northern girl. Not like the princesses who come to court at King’s Landing.” 

“You're beautiful, Sansa,” he said, drunk on courage and liquor. “Good enough to eat. I thought so as soon as I laid eyes on Winterfell’s daughter.”

"There it is. My claim.”  

“As soon as I said eyes on Sansa Stark,” he said softly. “On you.”

She'd had far too much to drink as well, he was certain. Their knees touched. Her eyes were a dark shade of blue. “Theon...you could kiss me, if you liked? I know it would be a lie, of sorts. But a lovely lie, almost like a song.”

How did she do this to him? Open him up to the sun and the wind, as if her kindness could change his cruel nature?

She touched his arm. “It could be my nameday gift. Before I leave. I have to marry him, I know that, but maybe once before I go. I'm sure you've kissed redheads.”

He had, and each time he had he'd closed his eyes and thought of the girl in front of him. But that truth would sound too much like a lie, would make her think he was courting her.

Sansa's hand flicked to her mouth, then back. Theon smiled to himself. She'd been about to bite her nails. “So think of a girl with red hair, and kiss me…please.” She never abandoned her courtesies for long. 

“Well…” He took her hand. He ran his thumb over her palm, and grinned when her flush deepened. Never mind the pounding in his own heart. “Since you asked so prettily.”

As soon as his lips brushed hers, Sansa gripped his jerkin and drew him closer. It was hard to ignore the desperate way Sansa clutched at his shoulder, or how she forced her tongue into his mouth.

 _She expects me to ravage her._  

But he didn't want that memory for her. He didn't want to make this cheap, even if she did. Even if that was the only way she could excuse kissing Theon Greyjoy, her father's ward and prisoner. He wanted her to remember this kiss fondly, with warmth, later.

So he gentled the kiss, traced her lips with his, though it was a challenge, now that he knew the taste of her mouth mixed with tart wine.

 _Let me make this a different song for you, Sansa._ He stroked her hair and some of the tension left her shoulders. She sighed, a deep exhalation that was a balm to his heart.

Sansa’s eyes were glassy when he finished by placing a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you Theon. I...perhaps my prince will never give me a kiss so sweet.”

 _Aye, but Joffrey will give you a title and a castle in King’s Landing._ Not the wasteland of barren rocks he could offer. Not the scowl on Ned Stark’s face if Sansa were to choose him.

But Sansa was here with him now, her lips red from his kiss and the wine they’d shared. She gazed at him like _he_ was her prince. For today - and perhaps for the rest of his life - that would have to be enough.


End file.
